The Pure, the Untainted and the Virtuous
by Miaka Kennyuuki
Summary: TEASER! Five children lose their families in a devastating way one night. One man takes them in and does all in his power to raise them as best he can…at Hogwarts.


Hey. This is just an idea I had tumbling around my head. Tell me if you like it, and more will appear after the final posting of From the Heart. Thankies!

Miaka

Title: The Pure, the Untainted and the Virtuous

Category: Harry Potter

Genre: General, Romance

Pairings: Not quite yet, luvs.

Rating: G, eventually will rise through the years to PG-13 and maybe R

Summary: Five children lose their families in a devastating way one night. One man takes them in and does all in his power to raise them as best he can…at Hogwarts.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter and any franchises associated with it. But I do own Shiyate Oranus.

Prologue: _Lost_

_The Granger Residence, West London_

_11:45pm, Christmas Eve_

"Mummy! Mummy, look what I made for you!" cried a small girl with bushy brown hair and sparkling brown eyes. She tripped on the rug in her living room, and her eight year old body tumbled several times before she crash into the unlit fireplace. Her pretty blue dress was now covered with soot.

"Oh, Hermione, you've ruined your new dress!" said Mrs. Annabelle Granger, the young girl's mother. Annabelle helped her daughter out of the fireplace and dusted her off. "I believe you are beyond repair, child. Go see what your father can do about this." In the Granger family, Annabelle did more work – she was a dentist – while her husband Richard did more or the housework and childrearing, though he was a dentist also.

"Yes, Mummy," Hermione said dejectedly, letting the picture she had draw fall from her soot covered hands to her mother's feet. The little girl dragged herself out of the living room and toward the kitchen, where her father was preparing dinner. She never noticed her mother pick up the picture, smile at her daughter's retreating back, and pin it to the fireplace beside the Christmas stockings.

**OOOOOOOOOO**

_Casa Zabini, Venice, Italy_

_11:45pm, Christmas Eve_

Leaning over a large oak desk was a man and a woman. The man had short, silky dark hair common in Italian men, and equally common black eyes. His wife, the woman, had Russian blonde hair and blue eyes to rival the Russian sky. Both looked over what seemed like important papers anxiously.

"Anya, do you see something wrong with the bank statement here?" the man asked, holding an official looking document up to his wife. The woman leaned over it.

"It seems like it, Lazarro. Here, and here also. It seems as if our dear friend Pavlov has been stealing from us," the beautiful woman said. "Should we not do something about this?"

"In time, cara, in time. Now, what do you think of this one?" asked Lazarro.

"Mama1 Papa! Marcello broke my gondola again!" cried a little boy of no more than eight. He had the dark, silky hair of his father, except it reached his shoulders, and the bright blue eyes of his mother, as well as his mother's pale Russia coloring.

"No yelling, Blaise. This is not how a Zabini acts," snapped Lazarro. "If little Marcello broke your gondola, it is your fault. You need to learn to watch your things better." The young boy's lip trembled.

"But Mama said I should always share, even though Marcello breaks my things," Blaise whined.

"And how is this our problem? Take care of it yourself in the morning. Buonanotte," Lazarro said. He hated being interrupted when he was going over his money.

Blaise bowed his head. "Buonanotte, Papa," he sighed, turning to go.

"Wait, cara," called Anya. Blaise stopped and turned. Anya approached her son, bent down and kissed him on the forehead. "May Santa Margherita watch over you, mio angelo." She kissed him again then turned him around and gave him a nudge. "Buonanotte."

"Buonanotte, Mama!" Blaise cried happily, hurrying off to his room. Anya turned to her husband, and before he could say anything, held up a hand.

"I have had a bad omen, Lazarro. We must love our son for as long as we can. It might be too late soon," she said solemnly. Moving back beside her husband, she kissed him on the cheek. "Now let us get back to these boring stocks." Sighing, Lazarro obeyed. There wasn't much he could do when arguing with his wife.

**OOOOOOOOO**

_Malfoy Manor, Unplottable Location, England_

_11:45pm, Christmas Eve_

"Draco, come here at once!" barked Lucius Malfoy, a tall blond man with ice cold blue eyes. "Come, I say. A Malfoy never doddles."

"Yes, Father," said the young blond boy quietly. The boy looked to be about five years old, when in truth he was pushing nine. He was small for his age, and had a delicate bone structure that was slightly feminine and definitely diminutive. It angered his father to no end.

Lucius brought out his long, ebony black, steel-tipped cane. The cane had an ornamental piece at the head shaped like a serpent. "Now Draco, take out your practice wand."

"Yes, Father," the pale boy echoed.

"Now repeat after me. _Crucio_," Lucius said, snapping his wand at a teddy bear at his feet. The teddy bear, which was magical – meaning it had an actual personality – writhed in pain and twisted into impossible position. "Now you try."

Draco nodded, gripping his pale brown practice wand tightly. He pointed it at his favorite teddy bear, Andie, which he'd received from his Aunt Bella for his birthday. He hadn't understood what she'd meant when she'd laughed and told him he would enjoy practicing on it. Now he knew. And Bella was wrong. "_Crucio_." He didn't enjoy it.

"Nothing happened, you useless child. Put some feeling into it, or I shall set this pathetic bear on fire!" Lucius roared, pointing a shaking finger at the bear. "Now get on with it."

Wide eyed, Draco aimed his wand once again at his bear. In his scared childish mind, he did not realize that a quick _Incendio_ was much better than what his father had done, and what he was about to do. Trembling, Draco steadied his wand at least. "_Crucio!"_ he cried. Andie twisted into unnatural positions, unable to scream in pain. Draco attempted to cover up his wince.

"Is that a flinch I see, boy?" Lucius yelled, backhanding Draco. The pale blond bounced one on the hardwood floor, but quickly got back up. His father hated any sign of weakness. "Now do it again, and properly!"

Draco obeyed. This time he aimed at the pleading face of Andie with determination. Gathering all his hatred of his life and his father, he opened his mouth and uttered the curse. Andie twisted so much her artificial limps broke off, stuffing and cotton spilling out.

"Splendid, Draco. That was very good. I'll make a proper wizard of you yet," Lucius crowed, for once proud of his son's somewhat morbid accomplishment.

Draco smiled.

**OOOOOOOO**

_The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole, England_

_11:45pm, Christmas Eve_

Christmas decorations were spread around the four story house in Ottery St. Catchpole in bursts of gaudy enthusiasm, the result of seven children going wild once allowed to help. A warm fire burned near a gargantuan tree which sheltered a mountain of presents.

On large couches before the tree were six redheaded boys, one redheaded man and his redheaded wife. No one noticed the small redheaded five year old in the corner. The first redheaded boy was about 17, the second around 16. The third, a stiff looking one sitting up straight, was around 12. Twin redheads were aged at 9. One small redheaded boy was 6 years old that summer. The small girl in the corner was 5.

"Okay, children, time for the traditional early gift giving," said the redheaded woman, Molly Weasley. She smiled at her husband Arthur. "Your father and I have been through the gifts, and we picked one for each of you to open tonight. It's Christmas Eve, after all."

A cheer went up among the children. "Now, now, boys, calm down. One at a time, alright?" Arthur said, lifting one brightly wrapped present onto his lap. "Okay, first we have…George."

Grinning, one of the twins stood up and grabbed their gift.

"Percy," Molly said, smiling at the only boy sitting up straight. With a grace not many 12 year olds had, Percy stood and retrieved his present.

"Come along, Ronald," Arthur said, smiling at the youngest boy. Energetically, Ronald hopped up and snatched the gift from his father and immediately began shaking it. "Bill." The oldest boy stepped forward and thanked his father before taking his present. "Charlie, my boy." The second oldest followed his brother's example.

"And last but not least, my dear Fred," Molly said, smiling and handing the last gift to the other twin. She gave this one a little hug, and smiled at her assorted family. "I hope you all like them. Your father and I shopped especially in Hogsmeade for them."

"And there was quite a rush for some of those things!" Arthur laughed, not mentioning that the rush was to throw them away or sell them to second hand stores.

"Thanks mum! Thanks dad!" the six boys chorused. No one noticed that one present and one person was missing. There had been nothing under the tree for Ginevra Weasley.

Behind the tree, Ginny cried.

**OOOOOOOOO**

_4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey_

_11:45, Christmas Eve_

A little boy sat curled up in his cupboard under the stairs, recounting the truly horrible day he'd had Christmas shopping with his Aunt Petunia and his cousin Dudley. Normally, someone of his tender age – five – would enjoy a shopping trip, but for little Harry Potter, it was a nightmare.

First they'd gone to Toy's R Us of London and bought eighteen new toys for Dudley. On the way there Petunia picked up an old paper wrapper and gave it to Harry to play with. Then they'd gone to the Build a Bear store in the London Mall, and Dudley got to build his own $50 bear. When no one was watching, Petunia grabbed one of the old, mauled bears out of the trash and handed it off to Harry to make it seem like she treated both boys equally, and Harry was just a bad boy who destroyed his stuff. Despite the worn out, ragged look of the bear, Harry loved it like nothing else.

After that incident, they went to Gap for Kids and began school shopping for Dudley. Harry and Dudley were meant to start their second year of primary school in less than two weeks. As they walked through the store, Petunia made Harry carry all the new clothes she planned to buy, and kept adding more and more to the pile. Soon Harry could barely move, and couldn't be seen in the pile. Petunia lost interest in the stack, took Dudley and left. She'd only realized Harry was gone when the Mall Security paged her and told her that a little boy had been lost in the Gap Store, and claimed she was his aunt. When Petunia saw Harry, the look she gave him promised no food for at least a week.

And that is what he received. When they'd arrived home, Harry was immediately shut into his cupboard and locked in, with promises that if he performed any of that "freak stuff" he would go without food indefinitely. Harry didn't know what "infedinily" meant, but it sounded bad. Luckily Harry had hidden a cupcake in his cupboard a week ago. He'd been afraid to eat it, but now it seemed safe.

He took his cupcake out, and waved his thin fingers – fingers that were much thinner than a five year olds should be, causing a candle to appear. Giggling at his forbidden show of "freak stuff," Harry stuck the candle into the cupcake and waved a hand again. The candle lit with a bright flame. Searching his young mind, Harry thought of a Christmas carol to sing. He didn't know it all, but he knew a few words.

"We wish you a mewwy cwismas, we wish you a mewwy cwismas, we wish you a mewwy cwismas an' a happy new yeaw…" Harry sang sadly, tears running down his thin cheeks. Finally, Harry decided that he better not eat the cupcake. He might need it for when he got no food forever. Lying down on a small, hard mattress, the cupcake burning beside him, Harry slipped off to sleep. Before speech left him completely, he whispered "I wish I could leave hewe fowevew…"

**OOOOOOOOOOO**

**TBC**

**OOOOOOOOOOO**

**So, whaddya say?**


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